


Starboy

by thegreatgasly (londonbird)



Series: Let Me Touch Your Fire [1]
Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Power Dynamics, Recreational Drug Use, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 17:50:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/londonbird/pseuds/thegreatgasly
Summary: Cut that ivory into skinny piecesThen [she] clean it with [her] face man I love my babyPierre and Charles celebrate after Monza.





	Starboy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [georgerussell63](https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgerussell63/gifts).

> Simone, I hope you enjoy the whole thing as much as you did the spoilers.  
Charona, thank you again for all the encouragement, advice and conversations.

Their eyes met and Charles could feel a flash of arousal shooting through his body. He knew it was wrong, but there was something so hot about Pierre staring back at him unashamedly and daring, not even trying to hide what he was about to do but rather inviting him to watch, and so he did. Watched as Pierre gave him his sweetest smile before turning his attention back to the table he was leaning over, platinum credit card not even trembling in his hand as he cut out two lines and then cleaned them up with his pretty face. It was bizarre but at the same time Charles thought it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen in his life. 

He kept following Pierre’s movements with his eyes as Pierre pressed the back of his hand to his nose while he threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for the drip and Charles almost felt like he was having a phantom experience of it. He knew what it was like, the feel, the smell, the taste, he had done it before. However it wasn’t the adrenaline and chemical euphoria which he was craving right now, it was something else.

Within seconds he made his way across the dancefloor coming up behind Pierre, pinning him against the edge of the table with his body. “Hey”, he mouthed at his neck and he felt Pierre shiver, from the touch or from the buzz setting in or maybe both. “You look fucking hot.” He ground his hips against Pierre’s ass for emphasis, letting his instinct take over and completely ignoring everyone around them, although it didn’t look like anybody cared anyway.

“Yeah?” Pierre leaned back into him with a moan only he could hear over the pumping beat surrounding them and Charles could feel more blood rushing South, wrapping his arms around Pierre to keep him close and continuing to rub his growing erection against him. Pierre had gone limp in his hold, anticipating the high. “I saved you some, do you want it? It’s good stuff.”

Charles almost had to smile, that was classic Pierre, always thinking of others, of him, wanting to share his things. It had started when they were kids, sharing their toys, candy and hopes and dreams; now they shared a luxury apartment, their fears, the pressure to perform and the unhealthy coping mechanisms that came with it. It was their own kind of romance.

He glanced at the plastic bag on the table but quickly dismissed the thought. The only thing tempting him was right in front of him. “I’m good, thanks”, he directed his attention back to Pierre, lips back on his neck, sucking on the skin to create a hickey that would be visible over the tan from their summer holiday. “But I want you.”

Pierre squirmed and Charles backed up a little to let him turn around, his hands instantly back on him afterwards, pushing into the back pockets of Pierre’s jeans, fondling his ass. They looked at each other and he took in Pierre’s face, the usually soft features corrupted now with his pupils blown wide, cheeks flushed and white traces visible underneath his nose and for the second time that night Charles felt like he really shouldn’t be enjoying this. It was dirty, it was illegal, it was morally wrong, yet here he was.

Pierre was obviously not experiencing any of those doubts in his state of total bliss. “Let’s go to the bathroom”, he said, one hand coming up to cup Charles’ cheek in a surprisingly gentle gesture, as if he hadn’t just proposed a quick fuck in a public restroom. He really still managed to be sweet whilst completely off his face and Charles felt himself starting to melt inside, only to go straight to the edge of losing his mind the next second when Pierre dropped the sweet act and whispered into his ear, “I’ll blow you, _Champion_”, free hand squeezing the by now prominent bulge in his jeans.

All he could do in response was nod dumbly and then Pierre had already grabbed his hand and was dragging him towards the bathroom area. He was moving so fast, weaving through the crowd and Charles could barely keep up. He eventually gave up trying to avoid bumping into people, ignoring anyone who shoved back at him, his focus solely on Pierre and the thought of what he was about to do to him.

They finally reached the bathroom and barely made it into one of the stalls before Pierre was on his knees, mouth all over Charles’ crotch. He kissed at him through the black denim and Charles leaned his head back against the wall, focus directed up at the ceiling as he tried to calm down a little. He felt dangerously close already, the thrill of being in public and Pierre’s eagerness turning him on like crazy, but he didn’t want it to be over before it had even begun.

He managed to take a few deep breaths until Pierre unceremoniously pushed down his jeans and pants in one go, and he looked down just to see him immediately leaning in and breathing all over his hard cock. “You’re the best, Charles”, he said, his hand closing around the base and Charles moaned at the contact. “You really are. You’re the best driver in the world and I’m gonna give you what you deserve.”

He twitched desperately in Pierre’s grip at those words, they were giving him such a rush he was feeling way too close to the edge again. He had heard so many accolades about himself after last week and after today, but nothing had felt like this. Nothing all the journalists, experts and legends of the sport had said about him came close to this moment of Pierre kneeling before him on the grey marble floor like a follower worshipping a God in a church, telling him he was the greatest with his eyes all wide in fake innocence and those reddened lips that he couldn’t wait to see wrapped around his dick.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

_You already are_, he only managed to think before Pierre’s mouth made his mind go blank.

He cursed at the wet heat surrounding his throbbing length, Pierre not wasting any time and taking him in right away. He was licking and sucking anywhere he could reach like he had been starving for his cock, moaning and making the most obscene noises that would put any porn star to shame. It felt so good, finally being touched and Pierre being so damn into it, into him. Now he didn’t just feel like a God, he felt like a Sex God.

He watched Pierre, how he was bobbing his head almost frantically while his hand was still around his base, loosely jerking him off, and with all of that it didn't take long for the familiar heat to pool low in Charles’ stomach. But even though he was close, he could feel that Pierre's attempts weren't quite enough to push him over the edge. His movements were messy and uncoordinated and he could not set a proper rhythm, too far gone to figure it out.

And Charles was getting impatient, he wanted, he _needed_ release after building up to it for so long. It was like when he’d been in the car earlier that day, where he had felt the pure _need_ to win, to finally make it happen after all those failed attempts, no matter at what cost or sacrifice. He’d been driven by pure instinct then as much as he was now, mesmerised by the sight of Pierre struggling to finish him off and how he looked almost helpless. 

It unleashed something inside Charles, the urge to take control and take what he wanted, what was rightfully his. He deserved it, Pierre had said it himself. So he reached down and buried his hand in Pierre’s hair, keeping a firm hold on his head to steady him while he thrust into his mouth and that already felt better. And then Pierre dropped the hand from around his base that had kept him from going in all the way and fuck, how easily he let him use his mouth, taking him deep with no resistance at all. _Fuck fuck fuck_.

Now Charles was the one who could barely keep a steady rhythm, his hips jerking in the heaven that was Pierre’s mouth and he was seeing stars every time he hit the back of Pierre’s throat. His fingers twisted in Pierre’s hair as his climax was approaching fast, bubbling low in his stomach and it was only spurred on by the visual in front of him, Pierre with his eyes half-closed, spit and precum dripping down his chin as he fought to breathe with a mouth full of dick.

It was a sight of debauchery but it wasn’t enough yet, Charles wanted to make it worse because he knew this was something he would never forget again in his life, eternally linked to his win in Monza, a special memory just for him that he would definitely not share at the next press conference. On the podium they had given him a trophy but this felt like his real prize.

And that was it, thinking about his victory pushed Charles over the edge. He let out a string of curses and forced himself to pull back as his body trembled, pressing only the tip of his cock to Pierre’s bottom lip and Pierre understood, offering up his face with pleading eyes and Charles had never come so hard, orgasm washing over him wave after wave. He stroked himself through it, spilling all over Pierre’s mouth and nose and cheeks and hazily memorizing the image before eventually sinking back against the wall, completely spent.

He kept feeling like he was shaking for a long moment, muscles still twitching in his thighs while his body felt hot and heavy and Charles wished he could lie down, so overwhelmed still that he was only barely aware of Pierre getting up.

“I’ll go wash my face”, he announced nonchalantly, like it was the most normal thing in the world and Charles blinked his eyes open, lazily eyeing Pierre who looked smug as hell despite or maybe because of the various dried up bodily fluids on his face. He leaned in, “Or maybe you could clean it for me”, licking his lips and Charles snorted at the suggestion. “As if.” 

Coked up Pierre was something else, it always brought out that other side of him, the one that wasn't at all like the Pierre everyone knew. 

Pierre laughed and Charles expected him to pull back but instead he stayed close, tension palpable between them until Pierre went and crashed their lips together, a forceful kiss that took Charles by surprise but wasn’t unwelcome. He realised they hadn’t kissed all night and he liked finally feeling that connection and heat between them. It was a great sensation made even more intense by the fact that he could taste himself on Pierre’s tongue paired with the sharp, bitter taste of cocaine.

They made out for a bit and Charles was close to getting hard again but then Pierre broke the kiss and just walked out without another word. Charles wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he tried to gather himself, then pulled his jeans back up and smoothed down his shirt, hoping he was looking presentable enough.

When he came into the bathroom, Pierre was sat on the counter, cutting out more lines. Charles’ heart started to speed up at the sight. Temptation was pulling at him again and this time he was more open to it; now that his other need had been satisfied he felt himself craving a different kind of high, even though the voice of reason in his head was telling him no.

He was a professional, a high profile athlete in the public eye and he shouldn't even be considering it. If this got out or anything went wrong, it had the potential to end his whole career. That risk connected with it should be throwing him off, plus the fact that it was dangerous and illegal, too. But taking risks was his job, and seeking the thrill was in his blood, whether it was on or off track.

He washed his hands, trying to act casual and like he wasn’t interested while it really was nothing but a last attempt to convince himself of that. And maybe it could have worked, but then he made the mistake of looking at Pierre and as soon as their eyes locked, it was too late. The voice of reason had lost - _he_ had lost. Because Pierre could read him like a book, he knew his demons and how to push his buttons and, more importantly, he wasn't afraid to actually make use of that, especially in his current state.

“Come on, baby”, Pierre said with the fake innocent smile of someone who knew exactly what they were doing and Charles hated him in that moment. Hated how he used Charles’ own words to get to him and remind him that he was inside Charles’ head like no one else, knowing his secrets and desires, enabling him to push Charles to do things he never would have done on his own. 

He had seduced Charles into many things over the years, sex, drugs, alcohol, gambling, the list went on, but the thing was, it had never been anything that hadn’t already been on Charles’ mind in the first place. That was a line they simply trusted each other not to cross and so Charles allowed it, he let Pierre own him like that. It gave him a sense of belonging and it was just one of the ways that made their relationship so special. Other people would never understand.

“Do it for me”, Pierre purred. _Manipulative little shit_. “Fuck you”, he replied, although he was not actually pissed off, only trying to get back at Pierre for getting under his skin.

Pierre laughed again and reached out to pull Charles close by the hem of his shirt. “Maybe later I’ll let you. If you can get it up again.” Before he could respond, Pierre kissed him hard, tongue pushing into his mouth aggressively and impatiently and Charles let him, and when Pierre’s hand came to rest on the back of his neck in a firm grip and pushed his head down towards the counter, he let him, too.

“Finish up, I wanna go dancing.”

And Charles hovered over the two white lines and breathed in, Pierre’s hand warm on his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, thank you for reading and sorry for the bad words.


End file.
